


Skippin' Rocks

by ivarara



Series: Maxis [2]
Category: Warframe
Genre: it's just a feel-good fic, warframe operator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivarara/pseuds/ivarara
Summary: Max kills time on a down day on the Plains.





	Skippin' Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> "Sputer" is another nickname for Max! It comes from the Grineer word for 'spotted', as they often call Max "spotter".

“I don’t see how you can stand it out here.”

A short stretch of silence. “What d’you mean?”

“What do I mean? The heat. The condrocs. The sunlight off the lake. The dust. That’s what I mean, Sputer,” the gruff, disgruntled voice responds. “And you’re sitting right out in the middle of it,” the officer nods over his shoulder to the scattered few soldiers standing in shade granted by a tent farther back from the shore, “rather than in the shade.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad, Zus. There’s stuff to do to ‘round here.”

“Like what? Listen to Hek’s banter?”

Sputer shrugs and distractedly scuffles a boot through the soaked dirt adjacent to the lake, looking back to the others. Trouvaille is woven in among them, sprawled out on the ground enough that the troops are carefully placing their feet to weave around the innate kubrow. The rest look just as drowsy and leaden, lowly chitchatting about whatever topic takes their temporary interest.

The toe of her boot catches on a stone buried in the sand, which she digs out to pick up. Her thumb quickly rubs a portion of remaining dirt from it. “This’d be a good rock to skip, actually.”

Zus throws an incredulous look at the statement, confusion evident even in the act. “Skip?” he echoes.

“Yeah, ‘skip’. You know, across the water? You try to see how many times you can get it to jump.”

“No, I guess I don’t.”

“Oh.” She turns the rock over in her palm. “I can show you.” The rifle in her hands is holstered and she takes a few steps closer to the water. A slight crouch, an arm winding back with focused aim, and a quick flick of her wrist sends the rock flying. It hops once, twice, thrice across the glossy varnish of the sun on the water, scattering any fish that had meandered out, before it finally fully submerges to sink to the floor of the lake.

Many pairs of eyes watch, interest and bafflement watch the act evident even through masks and armor. Trou rolls to his feet and shakes vigorously to get rid of any clinging dirt or grass and trots over to curiously eye the dissipating patches of ripples with a tilted head and crooked ears.

The sparse ripples dissipate after a few seconds. Sputer nonchalantly turns back; Trou pads into the water, still curious. Dumbfound gazes reflect back to her, and she frowns in confusion.  
“What?”  
“How’d you do that?”

“I dunno. A flick of the wrist? I’ve done it enough that it’s more automatic than actual planning. I can show you, if you want. You’re gonna need a rock that’s flat so it’ll work best.”

“Just do it again so that we can see how you do it. We don’t really need to try it.”

“Oh. Okay,” she shrugs and scans the banks for another suitable skipping stone. Another stone is scooped out of the packed sand and turned over in her gloved hand as she inspects it. Trou catches the act and attempts to imitate, scrabbling furiously into the sand to send clumps behind him towards the bystanders in the shade.

“You’ve gotta hold it a certain way so you can fling it hard enough to skip and not just sink. Like wrapping your finger around it a little bit.” She holds her hand out to demonstrate. “Then you need to set yourself so that you’re as parallel to the water as you can, so it’s not hitting at a weird angle, because it’d just lose all the speed and stop. So I guess just…set your feet however it works. I don’t ever really pay attention.” Sputer sets her feet into the prints from the previous go. “Then just chuck it and follow through a bit.” Her shoulder winds back, and flicks her arm out to send the stone away. Trou promptly drops an old, partially-rotted stick at their feet and sits back expectantly.

“I can’t make that skip at all, bud,” she admonishes, as if he can understand her. Even with his face covered by a mask, it’s still clear that Zus rolls his eyes at the two.


End file.
